Dampening Stephen
by VT Arkens
Summary: Wheatley is brought back to Aperture, only to discover that he had a life before being attatched to GLaDOS. As he continues his quest to bring back the memories of Stephen, he must do the hardest thing he'd ever done: learn to live in his human body.
1. Chapter 1: Down to Earth

If you were to ask someone about space, chances are, they would say something about it being "The Final Frontier". Unless, of course, the one you were asking was Wheatley. He would say that it was the worst place possible, especially if the conditions were as bad as his.

"Space. Space. We're in space. Guess what. Hey. Hey. Hey. Hey, guess what. We're-"

"Wait, let me guess. Could it be... that we're in space?"

"**SPAAAAACE!**"

Wheatley gave an aggravated sigh. "Listen mate. Yes, we're in space. I figured that much out. And yeah, you love space for whatever reason. But _come on_! I don't know how long it's been, but I'm pretty sure that it's been long enough for you to get over it! I mean, honestly! Right about now, I almost wish I could just die, just so I wouldn't have to listen to you anymore. Not, um, not really. Just get back to Earth. And you could stay here. Forever. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Wheatley and the Space Core (Wheatley had tried countless times to get a name out of him, but he never got an answer) had settled into some craters on the moon; the place that had started this whole event. As the time went by, he'd often tried to think of ways to get back, though he only was able to think of one. He'd just go close to Earth, then gravity would pull him down. It was simple. And timing was on his side, because just as he'd stated his plan, a meteor did just that, and Wheatley had watched in horror as it had caught on fire and disintegrated, along with his hope.

_But what would I have done if I did get back? Couldn't go to Aperture. She'd kill me for sure. But it's not like I could do anything on my own._ The Space Core yelled, "Hey! Hey! Hey! Look! Look!" And then Wheatley snapped.

"Would you just shut-" All of a sudden, a large shadow was cast over him. He looked up to see someone in a space suit looking down at him. "Finally! You need to help me! I've been stuck with this little idiot and- wait, what're you doing? Put me down! No, wait, don't! Just- Oh, you're bringing him, too? Well, alright. Let's go!"

When the two cores were brought inside the shuttle, they were immediately interrogated. "So then she got pulled back into the portal, and here we are."

The joy Wheatley felt when he saw Earth getting closer and closer was indescribable. He was kept with the Space Core in a separate room from the astronauts (they were afraid that the two robots were dangerous or something), so these were the last few days he had to spend with the obsessive piece of metal. He couldn't be happier.

"Um, excuse me? Hi. When, um, when are we going to be let out of here?" It had been a week since the return to Earth, and Wheatley and the Space Core had been hidden away in the back of some government facility. Lucky for him, Wheatley had been given a separate room.

The official-looking man whom he was addressing looked at his clipboard. "Where did you say you were from?"

"Aperture Science. You've probably never heard of it, though."

The man simply nodded. He then turned his head and called out to someone. "Miss, you're confirmed."

In walked a woman wearing a lab coat, her dark hair falling past her shoulders. From behind her rectangular glasses, her blue-grey eyes smiled back at the little personality sphere. In her left hand, she held the Space Core, and she picked up Wheatley with her right. She had to put each in a box, as not to let the public see them, but she removed the Space Core and placed him in the back of the large white van. Wheatley, she brought into the front seat with her.

"So, I'm confused. Since when do any humans work at Aperture? How long have I been gone? And, who are you?" The woman didn't answer; she didn't have to. She removed her glasses, then pulled her hair up into a ponytail. Wheatley had seen her before, but not in such nice clothes. Last time they'd met, she'd been wearing a white Aperture tank-top and an orange jumpsuit. But she'd changed, nonetheless. Just how long had it been?

"I- It's you! Oh, wow, this is bloody awkward. I am really sorry for, um, for everything. But, um, you're alive, so that's great! So, you're an actual employee now?" Chell shook her head, and Wheatley noted the long-fall boots she was wearing. _She must've stolen the clothes and the van. _"But how did you get out? Or are you still not talking?" She glanced at him, her eyes relaying a non-spoken message: "Things have changed". And they had, indeed.

As it turned out, GLaDOS hadn't the slightest idea that Wheatley was back, which was why Chell had snuck out to rescue him. But why had she returned? He didn't know, and chances were that he never would. Chell installed him onto his old management rail and left with a forgiving wave.

He was wary of all cameras, as not to be seen by the head of the facility. Things certainly were different. Aperture was no longer the overgrown wasteland it was before, nor was it abandoned. There were actually workers, and everything was in perfect condition. The last time it had looked this good was when Cave Johnson was alive. He was going around the corridors when he felt someone grasp his handlebar and pull him off his rail.

"Hey, who are you? What're- what're you doing?" He was trying to see who it was when he felt a panel on his back being opened. He knew what was behind it. "No! No no no no no no no! Don't- don't touch that! Stop! Sto-" The mystery person pressed the button, and Wheatley shut down.

He was out for almost fourty-eight hours, but when he did come to, he couldn't help but notice that everything looked... different. It appeared that his optic was repaired, for he no longer saw the large crack in his vision. He looked around as he sat up and noticed a medical associate standing by the bed of the infirmary, holding a de-activated personality core. _Wait a minute,_ He thought. _I can't sit up._ He looked down at himself and uttered a shocked sound resembling a gasp. He observed his hands, then felt his new face, smudging his glasses, which he promptly removed to look at. Upon his replacing them, the medical associate put down the former intelegence-dampering core and smiled.

"Welcome back, doctor."


	2. Chapter 2: Doctor

Wheatley, in his state of shock, could only manage to get a few words out of his mouth. "W- What did you do?"

The medical associate smiled and picked up a few papers from the desk in the corner. "Let me explain," He started. "The year was 1987. Cave Johnson had been dead for, oh, nine months, maybe? Yes, it was. Nine months. GLaDOS was activated, and I'm sure that you know as well as any of us how... unstable she can get." _Because _that's _not an understatement_. Wheatley thought, noting how odd it now sounded in his head. "So, the scientists had to keep her from coming up with new ideas to kill people. And that's where you came in."

"Yeah, I know that. But what about _this_?" He flailed his arms in front of his new body.

"Well, they needed a new AI. Tell me, did you ever meet Prototype 1427?"

Wheatley thought this over for a few moments. It did sound familiar... "Oh! Yeah! Yeah, I was in the core bin and she was overheating. Bloody terrified, she was. I let her shut down behind me." He nodded as if to re-assure himself.

The associate flipped through the documents. "She was the piece of machinery that led to the discovery of how to make an AI. She also used to be human." Wheatley was speechless. _So does that mean...?_ "When a new AI is required, in this case, a personality core, scientists take a human and home in on a specific aspect of their personality. Before, it depended on their attitude toward life in their final moments, which is why some didn't exactly turn out as planned." He motioned toward the broken camera on the wall, which sparked from time to time. He then handed Wheatley a small stack of papers, the first of which had a picture of a man, as well as some information on him.

Dr. Stephen Wheatley

Age: 36 Height: 6' 7'' Position: Engineer

Core Type: Intelegence-Dampering

He continued to read every word in the files as the associate spoke. "Your human body was kept in cryogenic storage along with the other cores', but theirs didn't survive after the incident ten years ago."

Wheatley looked up. "What incident?"

"The incident in which you almost blew up the facility."

"Oh. Right. And when it says 'Dr.', does it mean, like, science-y doctor? As in, the not a moron kind?" The associate nodded. "Ha! I told them! I was an engineer! I-" Suddenly a thought came into his head. "Wait, does that mean that _she_ was human once, also?"

The associate sadly handed him a photo of a woman. "Her name was Caroline." Wheatley observed the picture. _She doesn't look deadly. She looks like she could be someone's mother. How did she go from being this to being the most dangerous piece of work on the planet? _As he looked, something in the back of his mind told him that she looked very familiar to him, though he couldn't possibly figure out how. He handed it back to the associate. "The reason I took it into my own hands to bring you back is that she's still _pretty_ angry at you. She'd have recognized you in a minute if you stayed a core, but there's no way she'd remember what your human self looks like. And even if she did, she has no idea that AI's are based off of humans." The associate handed Wheatley some clothes and left the room.

After he got changed out of the hospital gown, Wheatley observed his new (or was it old?) self in front of the mirror. He had light hair, messy from laying down for countless years. His eyes were the same bright blue as his former optic, and they looked around with curiosity at everything they saw. The clothes he'd been given included a brown button-down shirt, a green tie, white pants, a lab coat, and a badge on a lanyard which stated his name, position, and ID number. _Did I volunteer to do this? He wondered. Or did they just take me and say, "Hey, congratulations! We're making you into a moron core!"? If only I could remember..._

He wandered the halls, taking in the new view-point of the only place he'd ever really known. _This is brilliant. No rails! I can go wherever I want! Oh, wait. No, can't go in there. But other than that! _He was lost in thought when he heard a voice from a speaker on the wall.

"You. What do you think you're doing?" Wheatley felt a rush of terror go though him at the sound of GLaDOS' voice. _Don't panic. Don't panic. Just stay calm. You're a doctor now. And doctors don't panic._

"I, um, I was just..."

"I believe you were just on your way to Chamber 17 to clean up. Am I right? Or were you coming to have a talk with me?" She said the last part with so much sadistic venom that it sent chills up Wheatley's spine. Something told him that when she said "Talk", she meant "Death".

"Um, yes! Er, to going to the chamber. Yeah, absolutely! On my way! Not doing anything, um, bad. So, I'm just gonna go!" As he began to walk away, GLaDOS addressed him once more.

The camera panned toward him. "Hold on a second. I know you."

_Don't panic! Just- just think!_ He faked a smile. "Well, of course you do! I work here, after all!" The frightening sensation of his heart pounding in his chest calmed at her response.

"Well... alright. Just get back to work."

Wheatley gave a sigh of relief upon his entering Test Chamber 17. He had to be more careful if he was going to keep his identity a secret. As he looked around, he noticed that the last test subject to be in there had left a light bridge protruding from the ceiling. Curiosity getting the best of him, he entered the portal and ended up in a secret room above the chamber.

All over the floor, there were scattered cans, coffee mugs, and empty water jugs. The walls were covered with paintings, one showing a figure whom Wheatley knew well. It appeared to be of a chart labeled "Tenacity", as well as turrets and some sayings and formulas. And then there was the one Wheatley recognized. He gently put his hand on the painting of Chell and felt a twinge of remorse in his heart. Was it for her? Yes, but also for the poor soul who had trapped here for who knows how long. Were they still there? Probably not. The artwork was faded, and the paint was beginning to chip off. Plus, surely they would have been discovered, and thus killed. As he leaned his back up against the wall, he could have sworn he saw a figure duck in and out of sight.

But that was impossible, right?


	3. Chapter 3: Silence

"The Enrichment Center would like to apologizes for the interruption. There has been a critical error in the main system. Therefor, all surveillance cameras have been deactivated. Testing, however, will continue, as an Aperture Science testing associate will be stationed in each chamber to record testing results. Once again, the surveillance cameras have been deactivated. _Don't try anything. _Thank you, and have a [nice] day."

Wheatley looked up at the intercom, grinning despite the shiver that GLaDOS's warning sent through him. _Alright, brilliant! I can use this to my advantage! Oh, wow. Stephen must be coming back. I sound smarter already! Who's the moron now? _He gave a little smile of self-triumph as he walked down the empty corridor. It had been two weeks since his re-uniting with himself, and things were looking pretty good so far. There had been no suspicion, and he was alive, so that was always a plus. As he turned the corner, he saw something that caused him to freeze in his tracks.

He remembered a poster he'd seen once, perhaps in his human life before this. "If you see an orange jumpsuit, press the red button." He considered doing just that, until he took a better look at the rouge test subject before him. It was Chell, her bright, terrified eyes locked onto his. She knew that she was in trouble. Wheatley was about to call out to her, but caught himself just in time.

_I can't blow my cover. But I have to say _something. He quickly adopted an American accent and spoke, hoping that she wouldn't recognize his voice. "I didn't see anything."

She eyed him suspiciously, but promptly continued on her way._ Is she trying to escape again? She doesn't know where she's going. _Concerned for her safety, he followed her as she checked countless rooms for something unknown to Wheatley. This way, it would appear that he was escorting her somewhere, or so he hoped. He noted the fact that she looked up at the ceiling every so often, as not to loose sight of the management rail above their heads.

When Chell discovered a room filled with broken machinery (and luckily no employees), she burst in, searching for something specific. The worried look on her face returned as she quickly dug through a pile of scrap metal and defective turrets and pulled a very familiar object out.

She took the deactivated personality core in her arms, her eyes seemingly begging for her assumption to be wrong. She manually opened the metal plates which served as eyelids and traced the crack in the dead optic with her thumb, the broken glass drawing a small amount of blood from her pale skin. _She was looking for me. And she found me. She just doesn't know it..._

Wheatley knelt down beside Chell, trying to think of what to say to comfort her. Before he could, however, she glanced up at him, observing him up and down. One visual sweep left her tearful eyes staring at his chest, or rather the ID card on his lanyard. She took it in her free hand and read the name in astonishment. The two began to stand up simultaneously, and she gently placed her hand on his face, taking in the situation which she was presented with. He said the first thing that came to his mind. "Um, tada!"

"I, uh, wanted to apologize for, you know, trying to kill you. Multiple times. I'm sorry. I really am. And thanks for bringing me back here." Wheatley and Chell were sitting against the wall catching up. Or, at least Chell was catching up. She didn't say anything about the past ten years of her life, or anything else, for that matter. "You know, that whole time I was in space, I kept thinking of the good times we had. Like... oh, like when you were testing, and I broke the door by throwing some bird eggs in there. Got _her_ really angry, it did! They looked a lot like this one, actually. Oh. Wait a second. Bad idea." He was looking at the egg in his hand when the bird attacked. "Ah! No! No, not again!" He flailed his arms rapidly, dropping the egg back into the nest, somehow keeping it whole. Once the whole ordeal was done, Wheatley caught his breath and adjusted his glasses as Chell laughed silently, something that Wheatley didn't know was possible until now.

It felt nice to be able to talk to someone without having to avoid saying certain things, even if she didn't talk back. They laughed at the good times they'd had, not bringing up the bad. Surprisingly, things were going very well. _What happened to her to make her never want to talk again?_ He was tempted to ask, but figured that some things were best left unknown. He regretted to have to leave her to her fate, but it was inevitable. "So, I'll see you soon then?"

Chell nodded and snuck off to wherever she was supposed to be, and Wheatley followed suit. It was now that he noticed just how artificial his emotions had felt up until this point. He internally thanked the mysterious medical associate for helping him to find himself.

_What was Stephen like? Or, I suppose it would be "What was I like?". And what if I had a family? Gosh, I never thought of that. What would they have thought when I disappeared? I was thirty-six in the 80's. That was so long ago... Of course, I could be wrong. After all, wasn't one of the questions on the application "If you were to disappear tomorrow, would anyone miss you"? If I had a family, then the answer would have been yes. Unless I lied to get the job. I could've been desperate. I don't know what the circumstances were. Oh, there he is again. Still... Stephen... who were you?_ He shook his head and continued his work, wishing with all his heart that he could remember something to tell him who he was.


	4. Chapter 4: Savior

Wheatley sat straight up, his heart beating faster than he felt safe._ That... that wasn't a normal dream. Not that I know what a normal dream is like, but still..._

He jumped up out of his bed and grabbed some paper and a pen. The dream was already fading from his memory, and he couldn't allow himself forget such vital information. His hand violently shaking, he began to write:

It was August when it happened. I was working, like always. Things were going fine. My lab (Yes, my own lab!) was cluttered with papers, which were scattered all over the desk and floor. I finished writing my lab report when someone knocked at the door. I told them to come in.

Michael Anderson, a good friend of mine, entered. "Hey, Steve! You busy?"

I adjusted my glasses in my signature fashion; pushing them up with my knuckles. Micheal was always a quiet man, only really speaking to Caroline and myself. Well, I guess it was just me now. I personally never dared to approach her after her... transformation. She'd changed so much, and not for the better. I shoved the thoughts out of my head and cracked my neck. "Just finished. You on break?"

"Yeah." I'd noticed quite some time ago how different Michael had been lately, but, for whatever reason, it only began to make sense now.

"You miss her, don't you?" I asked.

Michael nodded. "It's been hard, you know? I- I loved her. And she left me with her daughter. I've never had a kid before. What if I screw up? And it's not like she's going to be satisfied having one guardian who isn't even her real father. She's going to ask about her birth parents eventually. I'm just not sure I'll be able to handle talking about her." He sat down in a chair in the corner.

I walked over to him and placed a supporting hand on his shoulder. "Listen, mate. I know what you're going through. Well, I don't actually. The closest I ever came to a girlfriend was a high school crush. Oh, you know what I mean. And if you ever need anyone to talk to, you know where to find me. Most of the time. Unless I'm, you know, somewhere else."

Michael laughed. "You are such a moron."

"I am not a moron." All of the negative feelings were gone until GLaDOS made her announcement.

"Hello, Aperture Science employees. At this time, it should be known that deadly neurotoxin will be released in 3... 2... 1." Neither of us said a word as a loud hissing sound began just outside my door. "I hope you've said your goodbyes. You will be [missed]." She gave a creepy mechanical snicker. "Kidding."

I ran over to the back wall and turned on the air vent. "Stay here!" I ordered Michael.

"Where the hell do you think you're going? Are you stupid?" He yelled just as I put my hand on the door. He stood up and hurried over to me, but I pushed him away.

"Get back! The only air movement in this room is fresh air coming in through the vent. It's air-tight. You should be fine in here. I'll be back. I hope."

Despite his protests, he finally let me go on. The poison hit me hard the moment I opened the door, but I couldn't hesitate and let it into Micheal's safe chamber. My head started to pound between the stress and the neurotoxin. _I have to hurry_. I thought. Even _if it means me dying faster. Just so long as I save someone. I just have to hack the system._ I was coughing by the time I got to the main chamber. I stupidly froze as I looked up at the huge supercomputer that hung from the ceiling.

"Oh. It's you. Don't think you can stop me. You'll just end up like him." She lurched to the left, and the sight made me realize just how real my situation was. Another worker was laying on the floor, and I watched the life drain out of his face. _This isn't happening._

I managed to keep from taking a deep breath and raced over to the hidden control panel on the wall, only feet from where my cohort fell victim to the crazy robot. My eyesight was beginning to go foggy. I looked at the number pad and pulled out a screwdriver from my lab coat pocket, GLaDOS taunting me the whole time. _I just need to turn off the neurotoxin and shut her down. Dammit, if only I knew the password! That'd make this so much easier!_ I unscrewed the panel, revealing the wires underneath. Every second that went by added strain on my lungs, and I could feel myself getting weaker and weaker. I worked quickly, but I knew that one wrong move could mean disaster. _There's not much time left. I just... need to connect... these last two..._

My falling to the floor seemed to be in slow motion._ Did I... did I do it...? I'm dying..._

Seventeen people died that day, but luckily, Michael and I were not among them. I woke up in the infirmary a few hours later. GLaDOS was still shut down, and would be until a solution could be agreed on.

I was approached the next week. "Dr. Wheatley," I stopped and turned around to see my supervisor. "We're going to need your help. We have a plan to suppress GLaDOS, and you're a vital part of it."

Not knowing what I was getting into, I felt honored and smiled. "Alright! When do we begin?"

I don't remember anything after that, except for the fact that I was installed onto her, and eventually was replaced with the morality core, which obviously didn't work. I also don't know why I was replaced, but that certainly was better for me.

Wheatley reviewed his work, surprising himself with just how formal his wording was. _Were these really memories? Or could they be nothing more than a dream? _Despite his longing for knowledge, he almost hoped that it was no more than a fabrication. Seventeen people dead. "But I saved a lot of people. Even if I almost died myself. And Michael... did he die when the morality core failed? Of course he did, idiot. No. Not a moron anymore. Still. No one survived that."

He didn't hear the faint laughter behind the wall.


	5. Chapter 5: This Is The Part

The mysterious dream had left Wheatley more than a little shaken up, and he was left paranoid for the entire rest of the day. Every announcement was GLaDOS telling him that she was going to kill all of them, every person was the spirit of those who had fallen victim to her insanity. But, of course, he managed to see through his delusions.

The halls were extensively crowded the following evening, and Wheatley silently made his way to the back storage room. He reached into his pocket and quickly reviewed the strange note that had been left in his room while he had been asleep.

Wheatley,

I can't make it to our usual spot today. It's complicated. Please, trust me. I'll explain later.

-Chell

Why couldn't she get to the abandoned test chamber as they always did? Wheatley didn't pay the matter any mind and continued. He somehow managed to overlook the major flaw in the message; a realization that could have spared him a lot of trouble in the hours ahead.

The error was not how she had gotten into his locked room, or how she would get into the storage room, which had a bar code scanner for employee ID's, though he didn't have the answer to these issues, either. Nor was it the fact that upon entering the storage room, he felt that something was terribly wrong. He kept the worries hidden in his heart, keeping them from himself, as well.

He slipped in and acted as if he were busy looking for something until the other worker who had been in there left him alone. He couldn't have anyone knowing that he was meeting up with a test subject, let alone _this_ test subject. (Chell had gotten quite a reputation after the past incidents.) His meeting with her was always the best part of his day, and he looked forward to talking to her.

He waited in there for the better part of an hour. He went about pacing the floor, stacking boxes, and various other tasks just to pass the time. _She's never been late before. Don't tell me you got caught... _Another fourty-five minutes went by. He sighed and spoke to himself. "Where are you?"

"Sorry I'm late. I certainly hope I didn't keep you waiting."

The new voice was not friendly. It held no actual sorrow. It was full of malice. Malice and revenge. And Wheatley knew exactly why.

He'd interrupted her plans all those years ago. He'd been designed to bring her down. He'd taken over her facility. He'd put her into a weakened state. He'd almost destroyed the only thing she'd ever known.

And now he was vulnerable.

He tried desperately to escape, but a huge mechanical claw emerged from the ceiling and tightly clutched the back of his shirt. To his horror, it began pulling him upwards. "No! No no no no!" He yelled, reminding himself of the very one who was surely bringing him to his death. _How could this happen? Did Chell really set me up?_

He was dragged through what seemed like miles of passage ways (though it was probably only about a hundred or so meters), GLaDOS not caring about how battered he was getting along the way.

It was just like before, when he and Chell had tried to escape, but accidentally powered up the monster. He didn't know exactly what was going to happen to him, but he had a pretty good idea. One way or another, he was going to die. And chances were, it wouldn't be quick and easy. She would make him suffer, and she would enjoy every moment of it.

After what felt like an eternity, Wheatley was dropped through an open panel. Screaming internally, he plummeted to the hard floor below him, a sharp pain erupting in his leg upon impact. _Damn it!_ The AI whom he hadn't seen in years loomed over him, and if she could show expressions, Wheatley knew that she would have been smirking in her sadistic triumph.

"I really didn't think you'd fall for that note. Neither of us have ever heard her say anything before. What made you think she would now?" And that was the critical error he missed out on. "I knew I recognized you from somewhere. I reviewed some security footage, and guess what I found? The first time that I flooded the Enrichment Center with neurotoxin. You remember that, don't you? You shut me down and turned off the neurotoxin emitters. Well, after that, I decided that I wanted to make your life as miserable as possible. I would have sooner, but you disappeared. I just assumed that you died, which I was okay with. I never saw you again. Or so I thought. Imagine how I felt when I learned that the person I wanted dead so long ago was the same little moron who had been attached to me and made me an idiot, and then tried to kill me ten years ago."

Wheatley knew he was caught. Panicking, he defended himself the best he could. "P- please! I- I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Don't play stupid. Or maybe you're not playing and it just comes naturally to you. You think I don't know how you and I were created? That's right. I know all about Caroline. And I have you to thank for it. If you hadn't sent us to Old Aperture, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now."

Well, crap.

"You said something once, and it really stuck with me. Do you know what it was? It was 'This is the part where I kill you'. And now, this is the part where_ I _kill _you_."

This was it. Wheatley closed his eyes and prepared for the end. There was no escape, and he knew it. He didn't want to die. Not yet. There was so much more in the world, so much that he wanted to do. He tried his hardest to ask himself, "What would Stephen do?"._ I don't know what he would do. Something heroic, probably. But I'm not Stephen. I'm not a brilliant doctor. I'm just stupid little Wheatley, who was designed to be a moron and won't ever be anything more than that._

"Although," Wheatley opened one eye and looked up. What was she thinking? "Now that I think about it, Caroline would want you to know about yourself and stay alive, while I just want you dead and don't care either way. I guess I'll just have to meet her in the middle." Once again, Wheatley felt himself being lifted from the ground. He was brought toward her, and that was the worst feeling he'd ever experienced. Blind in his terror, the next thing he knew, his head was being flooded with images of a forgotten past.

His childhood; with disappointed ashamed parents and lonely days on the school playground. His teenage years; filled with false rumors and love fantasies that would never come true. Taunts from classmates, whispers meant for him to hear, pain that never left him. His departure from Britain; determined to prove that he could do something with his life. And then there was the memory of tears, self-pitty, the gun, and Michael ripping it from his hands just in time.

He didn't even notice that he had been set down until he collapsed on the floor. The recollections continued relentlessly. He clutched his head, which was exploding with thirty-six years of information; something that was never meant to happen to any human being. And it_ hurt_. Emotional pain, as well as a splitting headache that seemed as if it would never cease. He curled up on the ground, convulsing the whole while._ Stop. Please, stop. It's too much. I- I can't take it. Just kill me. I know you can do it. Kill me and put an end to it. Kill me. I've suffered enough. Kill me._ An extensive surge of agony shot through his body. _Dammit, kill me, already!_

"Just stop it!"

At the sound of the unfamiliar scream, the pain died down enough for him to realize that he was now being held in the warm arms of a third person. Still, it lingered, disallowing him to do anything but take deep, relieved gasps of air. His glazed eyes stared blankly ahead, but he heard the ongoing, one-sided conversation pretty clearly.

"So you won't apologize for murdering me, yet you'll talk to keep him alive. Why do you hate _me_ so much? Because I tried to kill you? So did he, and yet you rush to his side. I knew I shouldn't have sent you to the Wheat Field Simulation Room. I should have just let you go like I promised. So go on. Just get out and leave me to my science. Take that little idiot with you, I don't care. Just make sure that I never see either of you again."

Those were the most fulfilling words either of them had ever heard.

Wheatley recovered from the whole terrifying ordeal fairly quickly with only a sprained leg. He'd met up with the medical associate who had started the entire affair while he was being treated. He apologized for causing Wheatley so much trouble, but he reassured him that it was in no way a bad decision. As they spoke, Wheatley noticed that the man wasn't wearing an ID card. Suspicious, he questioned him. "Um, I've been meaning to ask. Who are you, anyway?"

He was now alone. There was no trace of the associate, other than a slip of paper left by his bed. When he opened it, it had a questionable cryptic message.

_I am the man who survived the attack._

_I am the paintings all over the walls._

_I am the voice the subjects may hear._

_And I am the man in the shadows._

He never quite decoded the poem.

As it turned out, since GLaDOS had planted the note in his room, Chell had been left alone in their usual meeting spot, unknowing that she had been framed of betraying her only friend. He had packed his bags (well, only one bag, really), and stood outside his room with the woman who had saved his life. "So, this is it, then."

Chell nodded and smiled shyly. She was no longer dressed in her old, warn orange jumpsuit. Instead, she had on one of Wheatley's outfits, which was much too large for her. He couldn't help but notice how nice she looked in the over-sized clothing. The pair stepped into the elevator for what they knew would be the last time. After five minutes, it stopped and opened the doors, and they had to shield their eyes from the sunlight which they hadn't seen in so many years. They stepped out and looked around at the beautiful scenery that surrounded them.

The sun shone brightly over a green hillside, illuminating every blade of emerald grass. A single cloud was in the amazing blue sky above them, as if to welcome them back to the world where they truly belonged. The fresh Spring air had an invigorating effect on their pure bodies and minds. The settling knowledge that they never had to worry about turrets, thermal discouragement beams, or homicidal AI's just added to the comforting feeling. All at once, Wheatley remembered the moment he had last seen this place: on his first day of being an Aperture employee. That was when he finally felt complete inside, as if a dark veil had been lifted off of his mind and a weight removed from his heart. The situation couldn't have been more perfect.

In the height of their astonishment, Wheatley slowly turned his head to Chell. "Remember that time when I said 'This is the part where I kill you'?" She did. "Well, this is the part..." He placed a timid, trembling hand on her face, stared into her bright, innocent eyes, and leaned in.

"...Where I kiss you."

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><p>Prepare for a sequal... :D<p> 


	6. Dampening Stephen II Preview

**This is a preview of the sequel to this story, in which... well, you'll have to figure it out. :)**

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><p>The plane was relatively quiet the day they disembarked. Wheatley looked out the window at the blue sky which he hadn't seen in so long. He remembered the last time he'd been in a plane; when he'd made his voyage from Britain to America. And now he was going back. Not only that, but he was going with the woman he loved. Chell was equally amazed at the view, though it was obvious that she was anxious. "Are you sure I'll like it there?"<p>

Wheatley took in the sweetness of her voice, which still broke from time to time from lack of use. "Trust me, you'll love it." Ever since he had been put back in his human body, he had been able to feel emotions. Not the cheap, simulated emotions he'd had when he was a core, but real, sometimes frightening emotions. And those feeling existed only for the woman sitting next to him.

She nodded, but her worried expression never left. He took her hand in an effort to reassure her, which appeared to work.

"Attention, passengers. We will be arriving at Gatwick Airport in about fifteen minutes. Please buckle your seat belts and gather your belongings."

Wheatley smiled. "It's time."


End file.
